


Only a Matter of Thigh

by ravenclawkward



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Deepthroating, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22470442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkward/pseuds/ravenclawkward
Summary: Jaskier catches a glimpse of Geralt's perfect thighs, and his reaction is, erm, hard to hide.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 114





	Only a Matter of Thigh

**Author's Note:**

> This is all because of server shenanigans and the general appreciation for Henry Cavill's muscled glory. I hope y'all enjoy!

Geralt was going to be the death of him. Jaskier was sure. 

He generally tried to shift his gaze when the Witcher was changing, and definitely avoided looking below the chest, but now he’s seen something that was going to feature in his alone time for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t the firm, chiseled abdominals, glistening from the bath. No, it wasn’t the impressive length of him hanging tantalizingly. Rather, it was the thick, meaty thighs that flexed as Geralt lifted himself up and over the side of the tub. Cords of muscle ran from hip to knee, all covered with a dusting of coarse hair. 

Jaskier gulped as he quickly looked away, but not quickly enough. His cheeks burned with shame and something else as he considered this new information. Well, rather, this clarifying information. Of course, he had seen the Witcher’s impressive legs in those unnecessarily tight pants, watched him bend and jump and _unnnng_. But seeing them bare was a whole other matter. Jaskier had always had a thing for thighs, loved running his hands along them, loved feeling their strength. This was just too much.

He was debating the possible excuses he could give to extricate himself from the situation when he was interrupted by a large hand on his shoulder and warm breath in his ear. 

“Someone liked what they saw.”

With a shudder, Jaskier kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t tell if it was a trap or an invitation, and he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move. 

The bulky presence behind him moved in closer, pressing against him, and suddenly there was no doubt where Geralt, er, _stood_ on the matter. The witcher hadn’t bothered to get redressed, it seems.

“But, what was it, I wonder. You’ve seen my back often enough, so I know it wasn’t that.” 

His hand slid, moving from Jaskier’s hip toward the front of his trousers. 

“Does the bard have a preference for arses? I’ve heard mine is rather distracting.”

The same hand moved in closer, toying with the laces. Jaskier fought to stay still, to let this play out. 

“Not that then. Let’s see… how about… _size._ Do you like to stretch to the limit? To feel it for days afterward?”

Jaskier couldn’t suppress a shiver but was otherwise able to stay in place. 

“Partly that then...but it must be something else,” Geralt breathed, reaching into the bard’s open trousers and palming his stiff cock. 

“How about…” He took one of Jaskier’s shaking hands and, pulling it behind him, placed it on the strong, hard muscle of his tensed thigh.

With that, Jaskier’s control was destroyed. His cock jumped in Geralt’s hand, and he let out a moan of unadulterated _want_. 

“There we have it then,” Geralt gloated with a note of triumph in his husky voice. “But what will you do to get it I wonder?”

“Anything,” Jaskier choked out, turning to the witcher and at that moment indeed willing to do anything. Geralt seized his lips in a hungry kiss, then backed them up to the bed and leaned back onto it. 

“Show me,” he dared. 

Jaskier wasted no time ripping off his own shirt and trousers, then sinking to his knees in front of the majesty that was the naked form of Geralt of Rivia. With no hesitation, he took the thick shaft into one hand, giving it one long ( _long_ ) pull before using his other hand to grip into the firm flesh of the meaty thigh in front of him. He kept his eyes open as he lowered himself down, suckling on the head to start. He watched as Geralt’s muscles jumped from the sudden sensation of a hot mouth on his cock, and felt his own cock twitch in response.

“Is that all you have for me?” Geralt taunted in a decidedly lower tone than he had been using before. 

Eager to please, Jaskier licked up the thick vein on the cock before him, placing suckling kisses along it. Without further teasing, he set upon taking the leaking cock into his mouth, moving up and down, taking more and more on each round. Frustrated with the lack of response from the witcher above him, he concentrated on opening his throat, letting Geralt’s cock head breach it. 

Finally Geralt moaned his approval, the throaty sound spurring Jaskier into moving faster, clenching each heavenly thigh and letting the witcher make increasingly firm thrusts into his mouth. Drool dripping down his chin, he let Geralt put a guiding hand on the back of his head as he fucked his throat. With one final thrust, he felt him come, pulsing thick ropes down his throat and into his mouth. 

With the self satisfaction of a job well done, Jaskier looked up at Geralt, who looks positively _wrecked._

“Fuck, bard,” he grated out. “If I had known there was such a good use for your mouth I would have shut you up ages ago.”

“Charming,” Jaskier said wryly, wiping the remaining cum from his lips. “Now I believe I held up my end of the bargain. What might my reward be?”

“Give me a moment, won’t you?” Geralt sauntered toward the bath, scooping up the oil and returning to the bed. 

Jaskier choked at the implication. “You can’t possibly mean..?”

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt asserted. “Your reward was access to these, and that’s what you’ll be getting.” With that, he pulled a still stunned Jaskier onto the bed and oiled up his neglected cock liberally before wiping the excess in between his thighs. He turned then, bracing himself against the headrest as he looked over his shoulder at Jaskier. “Take your reward then.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Jaskier quickly took up his position pressed up behind Geralt’s hulking mass. He gripped his leaking cock and, finally, blessedly, sinks it between those beautifully muscled thighs. 

He is quickly enveloped in heaven. Everything from the hairs tickling his cock to the glorious pressure of the thick muscles tensed around him threatens to be his undoing. He knows he is being loud, but there’s no stopping his moans and curses when the perfection that is Geralt’s meaty thighs are choking his cock. He thrusts, faster and faster, sliding along the witcher’s perineum, feeling the shock of cool air when he pulls back.

Finally, when he grips Geralt’s hips in a warning vice, the obliging man clenches his legs, creating a vice of new proportions. With that, Jaskier is coming, shooting his long-suppressed load between Geralt’s legs. 

After a prodding from Geralt, he pulled off and, snagging a rag from the side of the tub, wipes down those perfect thighs until there are no traces of white left. 

An amused huff shook him from his revelry, and he realized that Geralt was looking at him with an amused and, surprisingly, fond gaze. High on his victory of sorts, Jaskier took a gamble and leaned in, kissing Geralt slowly, taking the time now to explore his mouth and rub along his stubbled jaw line. 

When they finally pulled apart, Geralt shifted them so that Jaskier was laying on his chest.

“For someone so impulsive, you apparently can show remarkable restraint in not looking before this,” Geralt rumbled. Jaskier could feel the words as much as hear them.

“Always underestimating me, I see,” he quipped. 

“Perhaps if you had looked, however, you would have seen me looking back, and we could have been doing this much sooner,” Geralt said, with an unheard note of hesitation in his voice. 

“Better late than never, I suppose,” Jaskier replies, leaning up for one more affirming kiss, fingertip tracing the fateful thighs that brought them together.


End file.
